


I Get Off

by theychosefamily67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:48:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theychosefamily67/pseuds/theychosefamily67
Summary: Could you please do a smut one shot with Sam and Reader based off the songs Dirty Mind, I Get Off and Love Bites (But so Do I) by Halestorm? totally up to you, but I would prefer Bunker type situation. Thanks a bunch! It’s totally cool if you don’t want to! :D





	I Get Off

_Author's Note: italics = texting_

You wandered around the bunker, bored out of your mind.  The boys had left for a hunt a week ago and you were really missing Sam.  You went to his bedroom and flopped on the bed, smelling his pillow.  Your cellphone rang and you pulled it out your pocket.

“Sam!”  you squealed.

“Hey babe,” his soft baritone made you shiver.  “What are you doing?”

“I’m laying on your bed, missing you,” you pouted.

“Oh are you?  What are you wearing?”  Sam’s voice took on a mischievous tone.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, Dean went to some bar in town.”

You bit your lip, “I’m wearing my pajama pants and tank top.”

“No underwear?” he breathed.

“Nope.  What do you want me to do?” You asked softly.

“You know what.  I’ll be waiting,” he hung up and you giggled in anticipation.

You jumped off the bed, pulled your clothes off, and lay back down.  You put your phone by your chin, camera aimed down your body, and took a picture.  You sent it to Sam and waited for his response.

_Shit.  You look so good.  Show me where you wish I was right now._

You pinched your nipple, snapped a photo and sent it to him.

_Me too.  Wish my head was between those thighs._

_You mean right here?_   You texted back, stuck a finger inside your pussy, and sent him the photo.

_Hell yes.  You’re wet already aren’t you?_

_Yep._  You switched the camera around so it was on your face, bit your lip, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy and took the photo.

_I need proof._

You switched the camera to video mode and recorded yourself rubbing your palm on your clit, your hips grinding up to meet it as you stuck two fingers deep inside.  You moaned, “Sam.”  Send.

_Shit i wish i was home._

_Me too.  My turn._

_You got it babe._  

You waited, still fingering yourself.  You were getting close.  Your phone dinged to let you know you had a text message.  You opened it to see Sam’s cock, his large hand stroking it.  He moaned, squeezing the tip and saying your name before the video ended.

You closed the message and recorded yourself again.  This time the camera was on your face, and as your orgasm hit you yelled Sam’s name; it echoed off the empty bunker walls.   Coming down from your high, you licked your lips and looked straight in the camera.  Send.

No text this time, just a video of him stroking himself, faster and faster.  He was moaning and cursing, you could tell he was getting close.  The video jerked as he came, coating his stomach and grunting your name.

 _dammit, when are you coming home?_ You texted him.

_tomorrow.  you ain’t gonna be able to walk for a week._

_i hope so._


End file.
